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Days are seldom heavenly in a life as cursed as his.
Ruffling his blankets that do nothing against the cold, Dawnbreaker settles into his bed after yet another day. The souls he saved scream at him, but he blinks away the pleas he had heard before they died. Thinking about everything is hopeless, for he is a mere figure in fates larger than his. Even the person people hail as the Grim Reaper is powerless against the inevitability of death.
Dawnbreaker takes a breath, then another until the weight of the world dissipates just for this night. It never completely disappears, but it can become bearable until the curse arrives again the next day.
He closes his eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of the beloved he wishes he could have.
Today is your birthday.
After a day of festivities, your feet struggle to take even a step in Zayne’s apartment. You stumble with laughter loud enough to wake the entire apartment complex and a smile that could light up Linkon City’s dark night.
Zayne is there to catch you, of course. He holds you by the waist as you stumble, watching the way your face brightens as though he plans to store the memory in a wallet to look at forever. “Careful, my love. I wouldn’t want you to obtain a sprained ankle on your birthday.”
“I… I know!” you exclaim with pure glee, still laughing. The wind of the world stops when the door closes, and the pain of walking subsides when Zayne gently places you on the couch. He stands up to go to the restroom, leaving you to stare around his apartment in boredom.
Hmph.
Spotting a jasmine plant near his windowsill, you scoot over to admire it. It sits alone yet remains beautiful, magnificent. You gently water it using the watering can nearby, hoping your love allows it to flourish even more.
Somewhere, perhaps in a life beyond this one, your love does the same to somebody who needs it.
“Bored?” Zayne asks when he comes back, and your smile widens even more at the sight of his own.
“Nope. Just… just thinking.”
“About?”
You pull him into the sofa with you, squeezing the happiness within him in a tight, loving embrace. His laughter rings beautifully in your ears. “You, of course! And my birthday!”
When Dawnbreaker wakes up from the dream, no arms coat him in a warm embrace. Instead he meets the darkness of his disorganized room and the tears that run down his face.
It is his beloved’s birthday, and he cannot even reach out and give you a gift. He cannot celebrate the monumental celebration, cannot relish in the smiles he wishes were directed towards him. All he can do is watch from afar as agony consumes his existence completely.
“Happy birthday,” he whispers in cold, empty air.
Maybe he doesn’t deserve your happiness, much less a happiness of his own, for a curse like this can only be given to the most wicked of souls. Maybe the service he does for the good of Linkon doesn’t translate well for whatever higher power enjoys his misery; they see him as a harbinger of souls even though the solace of death is better than the pain of eternal suffering.
“Happy birthday,” he whispers again, because even if he doesn’t deserve to see the light of day, you deserve a love that transcends even the most damning of worlds.
Dawnbreaker stands up to wash his face. The tears blend with running water, washing away the salt of his memories. Despite that, the pain still lingers like it always has, and the reflection on his bathroom mirror displays a man consumed by nothing but anguish.
Dark, unruly hair touches his shoulders. His lips are dry, unkissed and misunderstood. His hazel-green eyes are exhausted, and he couldn’t possibly think of how his beloved could compliment them the way she does with The Doctor.
“Ugh!”
Tears coat his face again, but this time he doesn’t bother to wash them off. Instead, he mindlessly walks over to his living room, hoping to find a chocolate bar to snack on. Perhaps he has enough to stack into a makeshift cake, and he can pretend you’re standing in front of him as he happily sings you the happy birthday song he’s only clearly heard from robots instead of souls. Perhaps he can learn the song, the notes of it magically leaving his kissed lips, and find joy in celebrating a birthday.
But he only finds a half-eaten chocolate bar on his dining table, and that doesn’t give him enough energy to pretend.
“I wish I was there with you, my love,” Dawnbreaker murmurs as he chews, the usual sweetness of the snack turning bitter with every moment that passes. “Maybe I could make you happy.”
The jasmine plant that settles on his windowsill catches his attention. Its white petals glisten in the dimly lit home, brightening his space with its mere existence. Strange, he thinks to himself, I forgot to water it today. How could it be shining?
The realization settles like the rays of dawn, making him shiver and burn all at once. Dawnbreaker recalls the dream, the happiness in which you watered The Doctor’s jasmine plant, and the silent wish that permeated in the look you had on your beautiful face.
Your kindness reaches all the way to a life beyond yours, supporting the jasmine Dawnbreaker uses as a beacon of hope. You’ve always had the power to reach into places unexplored by many.
“Happy birthday, happy birthday…” he repeats, this time in the tune he vaguely heard from his dream, as tears coat his face once more.